


Chrysanthemum

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Age Difference, Alchemy, Epistolary, Future Fic, M/M, Things left unsaid, background Ed/Winry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-19 06:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Al and Roy keep in touch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kirathaune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirathaune/gifts).



> Each chapter of this essentially stands alone; the second chapter is a missing scene from this first work.

3 May 1921

General,

I am glad to hear your work is going well. Miss Hawkeye tells me that you might be headed to Xing soon on a diplomatic mission. I would certainly be pleased to see you again, and Ling ( _Emperor_ Ling, he reminds me) promises that you'd be given a warm welcome. Honestly, I'm not sure he'll allow anyone from Amestris into the country without my approval. I guess it's flattering.

The research is going pretty well. I've included my latest notes. Give my love to Miss Hawkeye.

Alphonse

_Attached: several encoded pages, alchemical diagrams and notes_

 

15 August 1921

Alphonse,

I've told you many times; there's no need to refer to me by rank, as long as you've properly sealed the envelope. My letters are read more often going out than coming in, and at any rate, after what we've been through, I don't expect any one will be shocked if we're a bit more casual. Captain Hawkeye was correct; in spring, I am to lead a mission to Xing. Our diplomats are no doubt carefully wording missives to Emperor Ling's diplomats as I write. He might hear about it in a month or two.

At any rate, any word you could put in on my behalf would be appreciated. Fuehrer Grumman is of the opinion that Amestris needs to rebuild its reputation, an opinion I certainly share, and steady trade with Xing would certainly help in that goal. Whatever assistance you might give--without compromising your integrity, of course--on what Xing might consider their primary goals in working with us would be appreciated.

I was also pleased to receive your notes. I think between your research and Edward's, you're on the verge of something quite promising. I have made a few annotations from my own experience; nothing too earth-shaking, but I thought it might shed some small light, if you'll pardon the expression. Perhaps we can go over things in greater detail when we are face to face.

I wish you the best in your continued research. I'll make sure someone tells you when our journey will begin.

Roy

_Attached: one alchemical diagram with encoded notes_

 

30 September, 1921

General,

I have no doubt that the military censors take careful note of all our communications, though I'm flattered that you think I'm beyond scrutiny. The Emperor has, finally, been officially notified that Amestris wishes to visit, and in a few weeks he and his ministers might have crafted an appropriate response. I'd advise you not to hold your breath.

It will be nice to see you again. I think you're right that speaking face-to-face might help us work through some of the challenges; the purification arts are so different here, and I have been immersed in them so long, that I could use a fresh eye. Mai has ideas of her own, too. She's grown up quite a lot. Her panda is also much bigger. (Do you remember her cat? It's actually called a 'panda.') I hope we'll have time to talk things through properly.

If you could bring some strawberry jam, I'd appreciate it. I've got a terrible craving and Mai doesn't believe me when I tell her how good it is.

Thanks,

Alphonse

 

May 24, 1922

Hawkeye,

Arrived today to great pomp and circumstance. The Xingese offer excellent hospitality, and I confess that Alphonse was not wrong when he praised the quality of their food. (He was still delighted with the strawberry jam, be sure to thank Havoc.)

I am fortunate to have him here to mind my table manners. There is much to learn, and Fuehrer Grumman will need more than one briefing to become wholly familiar with Xingese custom and mores. Alphonse has done excellent work for me, but I cannot expect him to anticipate the Fuehrer's actions as well as he does my own, and protocol would prevent him from reaching out a hand to stop him before he erred. He has no such hesitation with me, of course. We've known each other too long for formalities.

He has grown, far more than I had realized he would, taller and broader than you’ll remember. His face has matured, but I have no doubt you would recognize him. He is as quick as ever, and his sense of humor even sharper. Ling seems delighted to have us both in his court. I am not entirely sure if we are meant to be ornament or entertainment. Likely both.

Alphonse says there is more to the purification arts than one man could learn in a lifetime, but he is considering returning to Amestris for a visit, to see his brother's expanding family. (I wasn't aware Winry was expecting again; were you?) We might travel together for a bit when I return.

The spring flowers are quite different here, but still lovely and lush; I might try to send some back to Madame Christmas for her girls. They've always liked flowers there.

Give my best to the Fuehrer. My more formal report is enclosed.

Roy

_Attached: Formal report of General Roy Mustang to Fuehrer Grumman_

 

May 25, 1922

Ed,

You'll be pleased to know that the Colonel (the General, now) hasn't changed much. Probably even more pleased to know how confused Xing has made him. It's finally his turn to be the fish out of water, and he's swimming, but it's clearly taking more work than he'd planned. As you'll probably have guessed, Ling finds it hilarious. Mei is more patient with him--she's always been patient--but even she'll giggle at it sometimes.

The mission seems to be going well enough, though. Ling wants to trade as much as Amestris wants to play nice, so everyone has incentive to behave.

I might return to Amestris with him, at least until our paths diverge. I want to see you all; it's been too long. Give everyone a hug for me.

Love,

Al

 

August 27, 1922

Alphonse,

I am not sure this letter will reach Resembool before you do, but I thought I'd make the effort. I've sent a few things for the baby, and toys for the new big brother; I never had a sibling myself, but I understand one's arrival can cause friction. Of course I wish Miss Rockbell an easy birth and the best of health.

I would be gratified if you stopped by Amestris before you set off again for Xing; working face to face has its advantages, as we'd both guessed. There's a restaurant or two that has cropped up since you were last year that might please you as well. I still remember your list, and there are a few wines I think might suit your tastes. Perhaps you'd help me pick up a thank-you gift to send to the Emperor, as well.

Let me know if you're interested; I promise dinner will be on me.

Roy

 

September 13, 1922

Roy,

I'll be glad to have a meal or two at your expense, thanks for the offer. Living as a researcher isn't as profitable as you might think. I'm surprised you remember the list, though I suppose I spoke of it enough as a child. Ed insists I'm still overcompensating for what I missed in those years of restriction, but of course, Ed has his own theories for everything.

Speaking of theories, he's got some notes on what we discussed, which is another reason for me to stop by Amestris again before I go back to Xing. It's enough to keep me busy there for a year or two.

I confess, I'm more reluctant to leave this time. I've missed my family, and it seems like the time keeps passing more quickly with every year. (You're probably far more familiar with this than I am; Ed tells me I need to remind you of your advanced age at some point in this letter.)

As always, I've included a few more notes, though most of it will have to wait until I reach Amestris. I'll make sure you have a few day's notice before the train.

Al

 _Postscript, encoded:_ I told Ed, of course. I don't know why I told you I wasn't sure; he sees through me as easily as I see through him, and it gave us something to think about other than worrying about Winry's labor. She's doing well now, they're all doing well. I think they'll stop at two, though.

I meant what I said above, though. I think more often of our mother when I look at Winry, and remember that there's never enough time with the people you love. The three of us could die of old age on the same night, and it wouldn't be enough time.

But I've never solved the problem I left Amestris to grapple with. I fear sometimes there won't be enough time for that, either.

It's late; I'm getting maudlin. I'll send this in the morning. Tell Miss Hawkeye I appreciate her efforts to keep you out of trouble. And thank Havoc again for the jam.

 

September 15, 1922

Alphonse,

You are always welcome. Just send word.

I've attached a few further notes to save us time when we next meet.

Roy

 _Postscript, encoded:_ You're not the only one with unsolved problems. Ten years ago, I was...let's say I was far more optimistic about both of us finding what we sought. I still think we can, but I'm not expecting to see the work done in the next ten years, either. I vacillate between frustration and a guilty relief. You are right: there is never enough time.

Fewer censors see our words when the letters don't leave the country, though of course discretion is still advisable. But I think, in this letter at least, I can be free enough to say that I miss you, and that Riza saw through me as quickly as Edward saw through you.

I'll see you soon.

 

October 2, 1922

Brother,

Believe it or not, but we've made a lot of progress. I'm sending you an identical copy to what I've sent Scar, in the interest of saving time. There will be a lot to think about when I'm back in Xing, and much more to say when I've had the opportunity to think through it all. There's a package coming separately of a few things I found in Amestris, so keep an eye out for it. (Don't complain about me spoiling your children, either; let me be the fun uncle for a little while.)

Give them all a hug for me; I miss you all already.

Al

 _Postscript, encoded:_ Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I think I’ll have something substantial on the problem of decoupling proteins soon, and I have no complaints about the company.

 

November 6, 1922

General Mustang,

Al sent me the latest, and I think this time you're really on to something. Not sure what yet, but it's closer, I can feel it.

Thanks for the presents. You know we don't need them, but I appreciate the thought. Winry's probably going to send you some kind of polite thank-you note later. She says you should come visit when you have time. Pinako would love to see you and it'll be a while before Winry can make it to the capital again. She's made me write that you're always welcome. But write first.

You should probably mail me anything you think of first, I don't know when Al will have mail next. Maybe for once we can figure something out before Al does, though I'm not holding my breath.

Ed

 _Postscript, encoded:_ I'm not going to threaten you. My little brother wouldn't forgive me if I tried, and besides, we both know he can take care of himself. But I want you to understand that he's had plenty of people to keep him busy in Xing, and the only person he's ever told me about is you. That means something. I don't know if even he knows what. But it means something. Just don't screw this up. For either of your sakes.

 

January 18, 1923

Alphonse,

No doubt this letter will be waiting for you when you return to Xing. Please give my regards to the Emperor and his coterie, especially Miss Mai, who has been so helpful to us in our work. I managed to spare a brief trip to Resembool, and you'll be pleased to know your niece is looking hearty and well. Winry was energetic enough to upbraid me for not visiting sooner.

I believe we have finally granted your brother's hope and found a new angle without you; believe me, I am as shocked as you are at the development. At any rate, I've attached our latest thoughts, including Scar's input. He would have made an astonishing alchemist. I'll look forward to the holes you'll no doubt be poking in our theories, but for today, I'll bask in the achievement.

Roy

 _Postscript, encoded:_ As you'd suspected, Edward wrote to me. He was unexpectedly gracious about the matter, though I'm not sure it's a symptom of his continued maturation or he's just decided I'm too old and tired to be much of a threat.

He seems to believe I make you happy.

It would be petty, though true, to say I miss you; our work is too important to waste time pining over what we cannot have. But I will wish you safety, and tell you that you will always be welcome here, whenever your journeys bring you toward the Capital. I confess, I find myself brewing two cups of tea more often than I could possibly justify from your brief visit.

I cannot possibly guess what might happen to us in the future. What we both want from our lives is, at best, incompatible. But I am grateful for what you have given me, for now.

 

March 28, 1923

Roy,

It's spring again, and I'm going to see if I can send more of those flowers you sent back home last time. Let me know how well they're preserved; I've tried something new, a practical application of the principles I've been working on.

Emperor Ling is planning a new invitation, this time directly to Fuehrer Grumman, but he's asked me to pass on, in this unofficial channel, that he wishes for him to be accompanied by both you and Captain Hawkeye. I told him I could make no promises for the Amestrian military, but he is undeterred. I'm not sure if he misses you or he's just excited by the opportunities for chaos.

Let me know when and if the official word trickles down to you; as always, I'm curious. And let me know about the flowers.

Al

_Attached: three pages of alchemical diagrams with encoded notes_

 

April 3, 1923

_The following letter is written entirely in code._

Alphonse,

It worked perfectly. I separated the rose from the chrysanthemum perfectly; both blossoms are still green and blooming on my desk at work. You have never been this close to what you sought when you left here. When I think of the sacrifices you have made--and I am not so vain as to pretend that I am one of them--

I keep looking at those flowers, over and over, like the miracles they are.

If the Emperor and Fuehrer have their will, I will see you again in the fall. Until then, I will hold onto these blossoms as long as I can.

All my care,

Roy


	2. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse of late September, 1922.

Roy had a row house in one of the better neighborhoods, small but well-kept, with a tiny patch of lawn. _Generals can't keep apartments,_ he'd said, _or so I was told, quite emphatically. But that means I've got a spare room I can put you in without too much attention. I can give my maid the day off._

Al broke in the back door, which opened into the kitchen. His coat was covered in dust from the train, but the rest of his clothes were reasonably clean, so he found the entryway, left his boots and coat there, and settled onto the couch. By the time Roy came in, he'd spread his notes across what he'd assumed was Roy's work table.

"Alphonse," he said.

He looked up and met Roy's eyes. "I thought this was easier than explaining my presence at your office two days in a row."

Roy raised his eyebrows. "Two days?"

"Tonight, tomorrow, Friday morning, and then you'll have a few days off." He smiled, lazy and slow. "I'll leave Monday morning. Maybe late Monday morning." He leaned back against the couch, spread his legs, watched with satisfaction as Roy looked him up and down. "If you think that won't be too much for you. In your advanced age."

Roy's eyes were locked on him. "I'm remarkably well-preserved."

There had been too little privacy in Xing, and not nearly enough space on the train. But here, they had hours and days, a couch, a bed. A kitchen counter.

Al had plenty of ideas.

"I should let you get settled," he said, turning, deliberately, back to his notes. 

"Of course," Roy said, and Al didn't have to look up to see the expression on his face.

 

Roy had expected Alphonse to draw things out longer, but he was changing out of his uniform when Alphonse came into the bedroom, cupped one hand over Roy's cheek, and kissed him slow and sensual. Roy had noticed the way Al loved _touch;_ when he'd gone through the gifts Ling was sending back to Amestris, he'd slid the silk across his knuckles, as deliberately as he slid his hands over Roy's back now. He might have always been like this, without the years in armor, but Roy wondered. 

Now, though, Roy just appreciated the sure way Al unbuttoned his cuffs, the way his fingertips lingered on Roy's skin. The way he seemed to notice every movement, every hitch of breathing. 

Al peeled off his gloves almost reverently, putting them carefully on the nightstand before kissing the inside of each of Roy's wrists, soft, gentle.

Roy had thought Al might talk more, that first night in Xing, but he'd just winked at Roy and set to work with a man's confidence. Now they were alone, fully alone, he was just as quiet. He kissed his way up Roy's exposed arm, to his collarbone, still half-covered by his vest. 

Al knew the worst of Roy, knew his weaknesses; he didn't have to posture, didn't have to pretend that the gentleness of Al's touch wasn’t what made him shake. Al rucked up his vest and kissed his chest and stomach, slow, reverent, and Roy had never been so patient, much less at Al's age.

Still, Al's fingers weren't as steady or certain as they had been when he started. Roy could feel his breath quickening.

"General," Al said, so quiet that Roy knew the word more from the breath on his abdomen than from the sound of the word. 

Roy stroked his golden hair, gently. "Alphonse," he said. "We've got plenty of time."

"Not enough," Al said, and started on his trouser buttons.

Al was so, so maddeningly slow, his touches light, lingering strokes across his skin. Roy leaned back against the bed and the half-dozen silk cushions he'd brought back from Xing. After Xing, he'd given away his old sheets for better ones, unable to stop fantasizing about Al's hands smoothing the fabric, Al's back on the mattress.

Now it was Al who had him pinned, muscular thighs holding Roy in place, his skin warmer than any silk. "Hold still," he said, just a little louder than a whisper. As if Roy could move, or if he had any desire to. Al's eyes were shining gold in the evening light from his window, and if Roy had ever had anyone so handsome in his bed, it had been a very long while. Still, next time he'd put his hands out, trace Al's sides with the palms of his hands. The first touches once the gloves were off were always extra sensitive, the air feeling fresher, lighter. He wanted to lose himself in Al, lose everything, forget at least for a little while that this was only a moment, that soon enough Al would be gone and they'd both return to their own paths. That this was a distraction at best, a liability at worst.

"Stop thinking," Al said, stretching over him, his chest broad and warm and perfect. "I'm going to think I'm losing my touch."

"No," Roy said. "But let me--let me touch you."

"Yeah," Al said, dipping his face down to kiss Roy again, and Roy lifted his hands.

"You're so beautiful," he said, and Al laughed, light, golden, and pressed another kiss to his lips. He took Roy in hand, his mouth still against Roy's, teasing, tasting. "Lift up your legs," he whispered, and Roy had never had much luck telling Al no. He let Al put his legs over his shoulders--broad shoulders, and Roy was too old to be doing this for too long, but it felt good as Al slid his cock home.

For a moment, this was all Roy wanted, all Roy could think of. The world collapsed to this room, this bed, the warmth of Al above and in him. He closed his eyes and lost himself.

 

Al brewed tea afterward, Xingese style, the black silk robe he'd brought with him skimming his body in a way that made Roy wish he was ten years younger. As it was, he'd manage a second round in the morning. "Do you want to have dinner out? We can likely manage an evening without attracting too much attention." Al would attract attention, certainly, but a dinner or two with an old colleague was beyond suspicion.

"I'd rather keep you to myself tonight," he said, bringing over the tray. "Tomorrow? I brought some spices from Xing you might like, some pickled vegetables and fish."

Roy took the proffered teacup. "Are you offering to cook, Alphonse?"

"I have to take care of you," Al said, his fingers stroking Roy's chin as he put the tray down. "You're not getting any younger."

Roy caught his hand. "If you're not careful, I'll--"

"Is that a promise, General?"

"Don't you General me," Roy teased, and Al slid into his lap.

It was far too early for a second round, but he indulged in a few kisses while the tea cooled. "I got some work done," Al said, pleasantly, "but I'd rather talk about it tomorrow."

"If you insist," Roy said. He stroked Al's back. "I'd like to go out tomorrow, if that's all right. My aunt insists that she should meet you."

"Madame Christmas," Al said. "I feel like I've passed a test."

"More like you've volunteered yourself for one," Roy grumbled, "but she won't be put off much longer." He'd told her it was nothing serious, couldn't be, but she'd just smiled at him like she had when he was a boy and said that if it wasn't serious, there could be no problem with bringing the young man around for a drink or two. Roy just hoped that Al wouldn't flirt too much with the girls; they would love him.

He'd had lovers, Roy knew, men and women, likely whoever struck his fancy. Roy wasn't a man without an ego--far from it--but he'd never expected to catch the attention of someone with Al's youth, Al's strength. Who could see and know him as clearly as he did and want him anyway.

"Should I dress up?" Al said, kissing Roy's neck.

"No," Roy said, "I won't hear the end of it no matter what you do, don't make it worse."

 

Dinner had been quiet, though he'd teased Roy a little with his foot under the table. "Alphonse," he'd said, tilting his head to the side. "Can't a man finish his meal in peace?"

"I'm very peaceful," Al said. "I don't know what you think you're talking about."

"You're many things, Alphonse," Roy said. "Persistent, patient, slightly annoying at times..."

"Annoying," Al said. "That sounds like a man who'd like to sleep alone tonight."

"I told you the spare bed was ready," Roy said primly, because Al wasn't the only one who could be annoying.

"I have orders to meet Madame Christmas, but you didn't say if Miss Hawkeye requested to see me."

"Riza is always glad to see you, and you're welcome to flirt with her to your heart's content." He always had, after all.

"Don't get jealous, General."

Roy speared a carrot with his fork. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Because Roy was a delightful, handsome, wonderful man, he'd bought dessert at an Ishvalan market near HQ, a sweet cake stuffed with pistachios, and because Roy was also an infuriating sadist, he teased Al back while they ate, his own foot traveling up Al's calf with maddening care. Al was almost ready to pick him up, carry him upstairs, and throw him on the bed by the time they were done. But Roy knew that, and Al wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. Instead he made small talk while they washed the dishes, putting his hand on Roy's waist as he moved behind him to put something on the rack. It was a dance, and they were both very good dancers.

"Do you want to read for a while?" Al said. "Or we could--"

"Take me to bed, Alphonse," Roy said, and Al pushed him against the counter and kissed him, hard.

Despite Roy's complaints about his age, he was fully hard by the time they made it up the stairs, and he didn't complain as Al undressed him, straddled him, rode him. The light from the windows was dimming, but not so much that he couldn't see Roy's face, all the ways that age had changed him. More handsome, now, his eyes still dark and even more perceptive than Al remembered them being.

They couldn't have this. Both of them knew it. But at least they could share these moments.

Roy closed his eyes just before he came, an obvious tell and one Al was increasingly fond of. He stroked Roy's face, and Roy almost laughed, half-choked on it. "Alphonse--"

He leaned down and kissed Roy through the aftershocks, let Roy finish him with his hand, kissed him long and lingering.

"Yes, General?"

Roy held him, and laughed, and for a little while they didn't worry about the rest of the world.

 

Al was the first one to wake in the morning.

Roy asleep was Roy vulnerable and unguarded, someone Al had only glimpsed in moments for years, until they had met as adults in Xing. Roy had always been handsome; Al had always seen the vulnerability behind his bravado. But it was different when he was just that much taller than Roy, when Roy looked at him like an adult and he was free to look back.

Different now in Roy's bed.

He got up, careful not to disturb Roy. He could get a bit more work done before starting breakfast, let Roy get a little more rest. He started a letter to Ed, but then couldn't think of the words he wanted to say. Instead he brewed some tea and sat by the window to drink it.

Madame Christmas. Damn. Al hadn't realized things had escalated to that level.

Though maybe he had, when their correspondence turned more to their lives and less to their missions. Maybe he should have known in Xing, when he left his hand on Roy's shoulder a little too long and Roy hadn't complained or avoided the touch. Roy was so careful. That he slipped for Al meant something.

That Al was here when he could have been playing with Ed's kids meant something too, if he was being honest with himself. 

It wasn't the first time he wondered what the hell he was doing with Roy. Wouldn't be the last. It had made sense, at first. He had no interest in anything long-term, Roy couldn't risk it, they wouldn't see each other often--

They had too much history to do something without strings, but he hadn't anticipated how tight those strings would bind. It might be easier if he broke it off, but they'd never wanted anything to be easy. Why stop now?

A few more days, a few more nights in Roy's arms. It might not be equal exchange, but it was a balance he could live with, at least for now.

Balance--

Ed had suggested starting with something simple. So he'd started _much_ simpler. A lock and key first, and then you worked your way up to a combination safe. It was easy to pull base metals from solutions, but not so easy to detach elements from things that are still alive without doing damage. He'd never dared try with animal models, but for some reason no one had suggested trying--

Roy had a bouquet on his dining room table. Al plucked a waxy green leaf from one of the pinkish-red flowers and got to work.


End file.
